


Thank you, My Dear

by Tamorasky



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Galpalentines 2021 gift exchange, Herbalist Honeymaren, Painter Elsa, Renaissance AU, Renaissance Italy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamorasky/pseuds/Tamorasky
Summary: One summer morning, Elsa reflects on all that happened in the previous year which drove her into the arms of her lover.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (background), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31
Collections: Just Gals Being Pals - Galpalentines 2021 Gift Exchange





	Thank you, My Dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sparebutton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparebutton/gifts).



> Tori!! henlo it's me your secret Santa. Honestly, I was so excited to see Renaissance AU on your prompt list I cannot even tell ya! I really hope you enjoy it and it ticks off the boxes for a fellow history nerd. 
> 
> Thank you Molly for betaing!!

**Florence, 1554.**

Sunlight peers into the small bedroom through the open window, allowing the warm summer breeze into the room. Little specks of dust are visible in the air as a figure lays on a bed asleep. A woman sits on a chest facing the woman on the bed, parchment and a board on her lap. 

Elsa sits still, still wearing her nightgown, as she is enraptured by the task ahead. Her eyes focused on the rough sketch in front of her, her eyes quickly darting up to the woman in front of her. 

Honeymaren lays in their bed, her right leg propped up and her lips forming almost a pout. Carefully, Elsa begins to outline the curve of her lover's bare breast as the light from the sun brushes against Honeymaren's skin.

Elsa scans over Honeymaren's body. The thin linen blanket has fallen away from her lover's propped up leg, exposing her darkened thigh to the morning sun. The sheet still remains in place over her other leg and her core; had she been totally indecent, Elsa would have had the decency to close the curtains of the window.

The brunette woman's dark brows furrow as she shifts slightly. This causes Elsa to pause the stroke of her charcoal, knowing that Honeymaren would most likely give her grief for drawing her once again. But Elsa couldn't help it. Growing up, she had been instructed to paint nearly anything in front of her under her mother's careful instruction. With her newfound liberty, she could draw anything she desired. 

Glancing up from her sketch, Elsa nearly finds herself disappointed that those deep brown eyes are not staring back at her but are still closed. Propping her foot upon the trunk, Elsa allows the charcoal to fall away from her hand next to her. She places her black stained hand on her nightgown, the colour of cream, not caring if it leaves marks on the rough fabric. 

A smile graces her features as she glances back down to the rough sketch, the figure of Honeymaren now completed. Needing only to capture the details of her face, something which Elsa always finds she struggles with. How to capture Honeymaren's facial features perfectly in her artwork, though the brunette insists that she has a talent for expressing emotion. 

She becomes engrossed in drawing the sharpness of Honeymaren's cheekbones from memory, recalling how her index finger brushed against them as they fell asleep the previous night. 

"I can feel you staring at me." A voice startles Elsa out of her trance. She looks up from the parchment to see her lover laying on her side, her eyes still closed but the evidence of a smile indicating that she is awake. 

Elsa beams at the brunette, gently placing the parchment on the chest as she stands from it. Sauntering towards their bed, Elsa settles herself next to Honeymaren, placing a hand on the curve of her hip. 

Elsa shrugs in response, "How else am I supposed to capture every detail of you if I don't?" 

Honeymaren cracks her eyes open to stare at her lover, slowly raising a dark brow questioningly. "I think you have painted and sketched me enough, I have no doubt in my mind that you can draw me from memory." 

"I very much doubt it." Elsa leans forward, pressing a kiss to Honeymaren's cheek. The brunette groans as she props herself up from the bed, glancing around the room. 

"Have they rung the tierce bells yet?" Honeymaren inquires. 

"Not yet. You have some time before Lady Rossi comes to get her concoction for her husband." Elsa reassures her, giving a pat to the brunette's hip. Honeymaren groans covering her face with her hands in dread. 

"I had forgotten about that." Honeymaren shifts onto her back, sitting up from the bed. "She is going to haggle about the price once again." 

Elsa gives her a sympathetic smile as she removes her hand from the other woman's body. "I am not envious of you." 

"Thank you for the confidence." Honeymaren's dark brows raise toward her hairline, removing what is left of the blanket on her body. Swinging her feet off the bed, the brunette stands up to dress for the day. 

She meanders across the room towards the wooden chest which Elsa had been sitting on only moments ago, placing the sketch and charcoal gently on the ground. Opening the trunk, Honeymaren throws various garments over her arm, which she intends on wearing for the day. 

The brunette places the clothing on top of the chest, grabbing the white smock first. She shrugs the garment on, shoving her arms through the long sleeves. The smock reaches her mid-thigh, smiling as she feels her lover's eyes still lingering on her. Honeymaren reaches forward, grabbing the yellow kirtle, unlacing the sides to allow her to step into the dress. 

Elsa continues to watch as Honeymaren slips the kirtle on, who adjusts the bodice appropriately over her body. Without a word, Elsa stands from their bed, moving toward the other woman as she finishes her adjustments. 

"Raise your arms." The blonde instructs, an order which Honeymaren complies with. Elsa begins to fasten the laces on the side-back, pulling with some force until she feels the wool of the dress strain slightly. She ties a bow just under the brunette's armpit, withdrawing her hand. 

"Have you finished?" Honeymaren inquires, attempting to look over her shoulder at the lacing. 

"Yes, I have." Elsa nods, walking past the other woman to dress for the day. Two hands come to rest on Elsa's shoulders, followed by a quick peck on the cheek. Honeymaren's thumbs brush against the fabric of her lover's nightgown. 

"Thank you." The brunette removes her hands from Elsa, the spot where she once touched now feeling cold without her there. Elsa opens the clothing trunk, watching as Honeymaren leaves their room barefooted. 

It has been over a year now of them sharing a dwelling in Florence, but to Elsa, it has not felt as if any time has passed. Every morning, her heart still quickens when she wakes next to Honeymaren as it once had every morning during stolen moments in the market. 

* * *

  
**Florence, 1553.**

It was well known among the merchants that the Arnoni sisters had been inseparable since they were young. As the daughters of the banker and politician Agnarr Arnoni, a stern man who was known to keep his two daughters and wife, Iduna, close to their home. 

The only freedom the girls were allowed was their weekly sojourn to the Florence market with one another, under the stipulation that they must return home before the setting of the sun. Anna, the youngest, always seemed to thrive in the setting, often taking the time to talk to vendors and other merchant’s wives and daughters. Elsa, the elder, was the quiet one of the two, preferring to stay close to her sister and allow her to do the talking. 

It was a morning in the spring in which Elsa found their routine felt abnormal. As they perused through the market, Anna stopped by the vendor that she frequented, which was run by a rather imposing man who was broad-shouldered and had hair the colour of the sun. 

Standing alone while she waited, Elsa’s fingers brushed against the fabric of her blue brocade giornea. Her eyes downcast as she notices a threat loose on the embroidery on her lower sleeve of her white gamurra. Making a note to herself to inform her mother upon their return home. 

With a huff, Elsa finally looked up to see her sister standing in her loose emerald dress, trimmed with golden thread. Green had always been Anna’s colour, complementing her auburn tresses and her complexion. 

She felt strange as her sister lingered near the man for much longer than Elsa preferred. Politely Elsa tried to have Anna leave the farmer's side, not wanting the news to reach their father. But the auburn-haired woman did not listen, still remaining by his side. Elsa glanced away from her sibling, having felt eyes on her form the entire time they had entered the market. 

It was something that had been bothering her for the past weeks, the feeling as if someone was watching her with every step. Elsa had been expecting the perpetrator to be a lower-class man, beneath his station by letting his gaze linger for far too long. 

But much to her surprise, it was not. Instead, it was a young woman around her or Anna's age, watching her with a small smile. The strange woman's hair was plaited messily into a single braid hanging over her shoulder onto the deep red kirtle. 

The moment their eyes met, Elsa had been immediately drawn to the stranger. It was not anything like those foolish writers and poets wrote about seeing a kindred spirit across the room and knowing. It was mere curiosity that had drawn the eldest daughter of Agnarr Arnoni to the strange woman's side. 

Elsa strayed from her sister's side in a rarity, leaving her to be with the northerner. The blonde floated towards the dwelling that the woman stood in the threshold of, watching with a smile as Elsa meandered closer. 

"Good morning." The dark-haired woman greeted with a smile, her voice lower than Elsa would have expected. 

"G-good morning," Elsa repeated, standing in front of the woman. She had not known to approach the issue nor what the stranger wanted with her. 

The brunette glances over Elsa with careful eyes, as if she was a subject to be studied and understood with grace. "You have troubles sleeping." 

Elsa blinks in surprise at the abrupt nature of the woman before her. She knew that she should have corrected the woman for her insolence, though not a noble Elsa was a higher station than the woman in front of her. 

"A-and what matter of that is yours?" She managed to ask, attempting to sound firm in her inquiry, but her voice shook slightly. 

"I can help you with that." The woman stated, her dark eyes gazing into Elsa's sapphire stare. An uneasy chill passed through Elsa at the other woman's words, goose-pimples and her hair rising on her arms under the fabric of her dress. 

The other woman stepped out of the doorway, ushering the blonde to enter the small dwelling. Though she knew she should not, Elsa complied with the gesture, stepping into the house with a shiver. 

Elsa glanced around the room, a long table stood in the middle of it; the surface scattered with leaves, various flowers and unusual glassware. Herbs and other plants hanged from the ceiling over the table. At the end of the table was a stone fireplace, a pot hanging over the burning fire.

Her ears perked up at the sound of the wooden door closing behind her. Elsa jumped, turning to face the door with wide eyes.

"What did you mean you could help me with my sleep?" Elsa inquired, curious about what all of this was in this small home. The woman smiled at her, walking past Elsa towards the table. The blonde spins on her heel, watching the brunette grab a vial filled with a substance. 

The other woman turned back to Elsa, holding out the glass bottle to her. "Apply this to your neck, head or stomach before you sleep every night. It should cool you to help you slumber." 

"What is it?" Elsa inquired, hesitantly taking the bottle to stare at its contents. 

"It is a concoction I made consisting of red rose leaves, milk and a slice of nutmeg." The stranger explained, folding her hands in front of her. 

Elsa stared at the vial, wondering if it would work. She did not know of many female herbalists, especially those who sold their wares out of their own dwellings. "How do you know this will work?" 

"I test everything made in my own home. Everything I have made has yet to fail." The woman responded, confident in her work. 

"And how much will this cost me?" Elsa inquired, her gaze drifting up to meet the strangers once again. 

"Nothing today," The woman responded, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. 

Elsa sighed, placing the vial on the surface. "If this is a way to receive a favour from my father, you are sorely mistaken." 

"I assure you; it is not meant to be that sort of gift." The woman reassured, walking around the table to stand near the blonde. 

"Then what sort of gift is it meant to be?" Elsa raised a light brow, the tip of her index finger brushing against the glass bottle on the surface. 

"One which I hope would foster companionship." The brunette stated, offering a small smile to the other woman. "It would seem that my brother's associate has developed a fondness for your sister and observing you and her for the past few weeks, I would say that she's developed a similar attachment to Kristoff." 

"I do not know what you speak of." Elsa protested. Any romantic feelings toward anyone not permitted were often kept between the sisters. Elsa had known about Anna's growing attachment to the harvester. As Anna knew of her sister's preferences towards the fairer sex. But neither of them spoke to anyone else regarding these feelings. They were still daughters and had a duty to their father. 

The other woman bowed her head, her eyes downcast. "Of course, please forgive me." 

Outside of the window, Elsa saw Anna standing with the man called Kristoff. Anna was smiling as she continued her conversation with the young man, his face mirroring hers in joy. Elsa knew she could not deny her sister what little freedom she had control of in her life. 

"I apologize," Elsa sighed, knowing how rude she must have sounded. "It is just…with my sister I…" 

"You look out for one another. I understand." The woman tilted her head slightly, resting her hand on the table. "I feel the same with my brother. It has only been the two of us for such a long time. I understand your wanting to protect her."

"Thank you. My name is Elsa, the eldest daughter of Agnarr Arnoni." She smiled at the stranger, catching her gaze once again. "What is your name?" 

"Honeymaren Natura." The brunette moved her braid off her shoulder. "It is a pleasure to have met you, Elsa." 

"You as well." The blonde glanced back to the vial, picking it up. Her brow raised, slowly looking up to the other woman. "Are you certain it is not poison?" 

Honeymaren giggled, looking to the ground briefly. "I promise it is not poison." 

"Thank you," Elsa grinned, clearly amused as her hands folded over the glass bottle. "I hope to see more of you in the future…Honeymaren." 

"You as well, Elsa." The brunette smiled wistfully at the other woman. Elsa nodded, turning from her. She stalked towards the door, crossing the threshold of the dwelling without another word. 

A smile lingered as she walked back toward her sister, who was waiting for Elsa to emerge from the dwelling. Confident that she would see Honeymaren once again, hoping that it would be soon. 

* * *

  
It was not long before Elsa would revisit the herbalist. The following week the blonde returned to Honeymaren's home, making the acquaintance of her younger brother. That day Elsa watched the other woman prepare various concoctions. After the success of the sleeping recipe, she found herself increasingly curious about the work the strange unmarried woman carried out. 

A week following that, Elsa found herself sitting at Honeymaren's table with spare charcoal and parchment in front of her. That was the first morning Elsa sketched the brunette. It was rough, nothing which her mother would give her praise over. 

It was of Honeymaren standing on the other side of the table, her brows furrowed in concentration as she ground up anise in the mortar. Her fist wrapped tightly around the pestle, as her shoulders jolted with every movement, her hair free from his confines and curling down her back. 

It was nothing in Elsa's eyes, an inconsequential piece that was left on the table when she left that morning. 

The next week, the piece was hanging on the wall just under a shelf, used to hold the glass vials. They only talked of art and music that day, as it was something Elsa knew a lot of. As a woman her age and station, she was expected to perfect the arts, but painting was her favourite. Honeymaren separated the lavender from its stems, eventually putting Elsa to work removing the flowers. 

That was the day Elsa learned that she enjoyed working with her hands. 

* * *

  
In the fourth week of consecutive visits to Honeymaren's home, the brunette finally suggested that they go for a walk through the market. That afternoon Honeymaren took Elsa's arm in hers for the first time. Which was the morning Elsa learned that Honeymaren's hands were always warm. 

The morning of the seventh week, Elsa found Honeymaren in her herb garden next to the small stone house, which supplied most ingredients for her medicinal recipes. The brunette happened to glance up from her work, a large wicker basket sitting next to her on the earth. 

"Elsa!" Honeymaren called out, waving her hand to bring attention to herself. The blonde smiled at the other woman, stepping onto the property towards the garden. "It did not occur to me that you would be here so late." 

"My mother kept myself and Anna slightly longer than normal." Elsa sighs, standing on the edge of the garden. She smiles at the sight of dirt on Honeymaren's cheeks and forehead. 

"No matter, can you pick some of that fennel." The brunette pointed to the tall herb with yellow flowers on the end. Elsa walked over to the plant, pointing at it with a raised brow to confirm that this was the correct plant. "Yes, that is it." 

Elsa looks to the herb that nearly comes to her sternum, breaking off the tops off with the yellow flowers. Honeymaren stands from the ground, grabbing her basket before meandering toward Elsa, who was clearly trying to keep any of the plants off of the satin of her dress. 

As Elsa plucked the fennel, Honeymaren took it from her to place in the basket a top of the other herbs she had collected. The blonde picked another, glancing at Honeymaren as their fingers brushed as she hands off the fennel. 

Neither woman pulled away from the other. Instead, the brunette's finger brushed against Elsa's index finger slowly. Elsa's heart fluttered in her chest as those dark eyes bore into her own, noticing how the other woman's pupils dilate as she continued to stare at her. Honeymaren raised her hand, reaching toward the blonde's face. 

Elsa felt as if her heart was about to burst forth from her chest as a warm hand made contact with her skin. Her finger brushed the skin just under Elsa's eye, which fluttered under the touch. With a second swipe of her thumb, Honeymaren removed her hand from the other woman's face. 

Offering her an apologetic smile, the brunette shrugged. "Fallen eyelash." 

Elsa's gaze followed Honeymaren as she made her way back to the house, disappearing through the door without another word. She meandered after the herbalist without another thought, stepping into the small kitchen to see Honeymaren removing various herbs and weeds from her basket. 

The blonde removed herself from the doorway, settling herself in the chair she had come to occupy every passing week. She reached forward for the herb she had picked herself, bringing it to her nose to sniff it. 

"Fennel," Honeymaren restated as she glanced up at her. "It is good to break wind, provoke urine or ease the pains of stone. Although we use it in most medicinal recipes." 

Elsa smiled, placing the herb back on the table to grab a yellow flower often seen in her mother's garden, which appeared similar to a lion's mane. "What about this?" 

"Dandelion, it's a weed. It is of an opening and cleansing quality. You use it for those who have ailing livers, galls or spleen. I've heard the French even eat them during springtime." Honeymaren reached across the table, plucking the flower out of Elsa's hand before chopping it up finely. 

Another herb that caught Elsa's was another familiar one. It was dark green in colour with long narrow leaves. Picking it up, the overwhelming scent nearly overtook Elsa's senses. The blonde raises a brow at the other woman, holding up the plant with curiosity. 

"It is just spearmint." Honeymaren shrugs. 

"I know that," Elsa rolled her eyes with a huff. "What does it do?"

Honeymaren's tongue darted out, wetting her dry lips as she leans on the table. "It's used in everything. It stays bleeding, hiccough, vomiting. It can repress the milk in a woman's breast to help with swelling." 

Elsa placed the herb back onto the table. The scent lingered on her fingers as she watched Honeymaren carry on with her duties. That was the day Elsa knew she wanted to learn everything there was to know about the other woman. 

* * *

  
The two weeks following their morning in the garden, Elsa and Honeymaren perused through the market, their arms linked with one another as they ignore the various vendors, completely enraptured by their conversation with the other. 

Elsa had spent those weeks getting to learn more about Honeymaren. That she and her brother, Ryder, operated the dispensary that their parents had created before their deaths. Honeymaren had spent the majority of her life caring for Ryder and ensuring they survived the best they could for their conditions. 

It had made Elsa realize the lavish life that she led and would from now on. For now, she was under her father's protection and then would be under her husband's protection, though it was not something she desired. 

Elsa's body seized as Honeymaren abruptly stopped in the square under the hot sun. The blonde glanced behind her with a raised brow. 

"Maren? What is it?" She asked, only for the brunette to unwrap herself from Elsa, grabbing her hand instead. 

"This way!" Honeymaren yanked Elsa the opposite way they had been walking, their speed increasing as someone called out for the herbalist. They race down a side street, Honeymaren tugging Elsa into a dark corner of a stone building. 

Her body pressed flushed against Elsa's, ensuring they had not been followed. Elsa's eyes search the brunette's, her lips slightly parted. 

"What was that about?" The blonde inquired, feeling safe with Honeymaren's hands on both sides of her body. Honeymaren's body heat warming Elsa, convincing herself that was the reason for her face growing flushed. 

"The youngest Rossi son has been." Honeymaren cleared her throat. "Pursuing me for marriage under the guidance of his father." 

Elsa felt her chest grow cold at that, spreading through her body. Her eyes not leaving the other woman's. "Is that not what you want?" She whispered, her breasts straining against her corset. 

"Not at all." The brunette responded at a similar volume. 

"What do you want?" Elsa's eyes fluttered, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. Without a moment of hesitation, Honeymaren's hand withdraws from the stone of the building, coming to rest on the back of Elsa's neck, just below her hairline. 

Their faces were only inches away from one another, constricted chests pressed against the other. Before Honeymaren whispered. "You." Elsa nodded in response as if giving the woman in front of her permission to take what she wanted. 

In an instant, Honeymaren pressed her lips to the other woman's with fervour, her free hand cupping Elsa's cheek in her warm palm. Elsa's hands drift to the brunette's waist, her fingers brushing against the scratchy wool fabric of the dress. They withdraw from one another, exchanging a smile as their foreheads press together. 

That was the day Elsa knew she never wanted to kiss any other but Honeymaren. 

* * *

  
The Arnoni sisters walked back to their home, arm-in-arm with one another as the sun was setting over the city. Neither of them talk of what Elsa had come across later that afternoon as she went to find her sister. 

Though the image was ingrained in the elder sister’s memory; when she had pushed into the merchant’s small home, hoping to find her sister. Only to find Anna inside his home, sitting on a wooden table with her skirts pushed up and Kristoff standing between her thighs; still dressed much to the relief of the elder. 

Elsa waited until they are away from the ears of gossiping townsfolk to finally speak. “You need to be more careful. What if word got back to father about you going into the home of an unmarried man?” 

“It is fine. Kristoff and I are always careful.” Anna huffed, knowing that her sister would scold her. “I thought you liked Kristoff.” 

“I do. But that is beside the point if you were to become pregnant with child do you know what father would do to you?” Elsa inquired. She was not angry with her sister, knowing that she had no right to be after what had occurred between her and Honeymaren. 

She was afraid, her relationship with the other woman was less conspicuous than Anna’s relationship with Kristoff. It would not likely draw suspicion from other people, but if rumours of the youngest Arnoni sister entering the dwelling of an unmarried man were to spread. Their father would have Anna thrown onto the street with no protection or money in an instant. 

“I know, we are…being safe. We have not…well….” Anna trailed off, trying to find the words to tell her sister that her virginity was still intact. 

“I-I do not need to know.” Elsa shook her head, her cheeks becoming flushed with a mix of embarrassment and disgust at the thought. She sighed as they enter the family grounds, stopping to take Anna’s hands into her own shaking ones. “I like Kristoff, he is kind and clearly feels strongly for you. I jus-I need you to be careful in how you conduct yourself in public.” 

Anna nodded, her eyes focused on her sister. “I understand. I will try to be more discreet.” 

“Thank you.” Elsa squeezed the auburn-haired woman’s hands. “I just want what is best for you.” 

“I know you do,” Anna responded. The blonde turned from her sister, surprised as Anna took her arm once more as they walked towards the entrance of their father’s home. “So…you do like Kristoff?” 

“Of course, I do.” The blonde rolled her eyes. 

Anna grinned in response, ecstatic that she had her elder sister’s approval. She glanced up at Elsa for a moment. “I like Honeymaren as well.” 

Elsa did not find the need to respond to Anna’s remark as a smile threatened to form on her features. After all, there was no possible way that her younger sister could know of her true feelings. 

* * *

The following days, weeks and months are shared between the two women, their afternoons filled with slight touches that set skin aflame and secret kisses.

It was early autumn, Honeymaren was in a frenzy to collect and harvest everything from her garden before the weather cooled. Herbs covered the wooden table, prepared to be preserved as the brunette rushed around the warm kitchen.

Her chestnut hair was piled messily on the top of her head, keeping the thick tresses away from her neck as she worked. Elsa sat in her usual spot, pulling leaves and flowers from stems to help her lover with her work.

The blonde smiled as Honeymaren described in detail the process in which to dry sage and the process of growing plants in the house through the cold season. Her words barely register as Honeymaren talked quickly with such passion that Elsa could not help but stare at her.

“I know prices for concoctions increase during the winter, especially with the closure of many of the trade routes and you know how that damn spice merchant can be.” Honeymaren huffed, shaking her head as a few strands of hair escaped from its confines.

“You talk about it enough.” Elsa giggled, pulling spearmint leaves off of the stems.

The brunette rolled her eyes as she raced past Elsa, pressing a kiss to her lover’s temple before moving toward the fireplace. “You love it when I talk about the prices of spice.”

“I love you, there is a difference,” Elsa responded without much thought. The room fell silent at the drop of a pin. The blonde continued to prepare herbs, not thinking anything out of the ordinary until it suddenly occurred to her.

She had spoken the words that could never be taken back. Elsa glanced up from the table to see Honeymaren standing in front of the fireplace, facing her lover with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“You what?” Her face was unreadable to the other woman.

“I…I meant your passion is admirable regarding the price of spice.” Elsa stuttered, her heart pounding in her chest. Increasingly finding it difficult to breathe under the confines of her corset. “I did not mean it like that…I-I just meant…”

Without hesitation Honeymaren crossed the room in a few short strides, taking Elsa’s face into her hands and pressing her lips to the blonde’s. She gasped at the sudden kiss as the brunette runs her thumbs against her cheekbones.

Slowly, Honeymaren withdrew from her love, smiling at her with hands still on Elsa’s cheeks. “I-I love you too.”

“You do?” Elsa blinked in surprise, her hands settling on the brunette’s hips.

“Of course, I do.” Honeymaren giggled. Elsa leaned forward, lightly pressing a kiss to her cheek then to the other, before finally to the tip of her nose. “I love you, Elsa.”

“I love you, Maren.” The blonde giggled, elated from finally admitting her feelings to the woman in front of her.

It was the first time that afternoon that Honeymaren brought Elsa to her bed, slowly disrobing and unlacing one another. The blonde had led the darker woman to the bed, slowly caressing one another and kissing her breasts. They would lie in the tangle of sheets in the afternoon sun, hands clasped together as they lay naked with one another.

That was the day that Elsa’s life came crashing down. It was the day that Elsa knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman whose bed she laid in.

* * *

She stood in her father’s library a fortnight later, lingering by the door as Anna stood in front of their father’s desk in tears. The auburn-haired woman’s pleads falling deaf on Agnarr Arnoni’s ears as he berated his youngest daughter.

Elsa had thought her affair had been found out when their father called herself and Anna to the study. Instead, it was in regard to Anna’s affair with the blonde merchant, Kristoff. Elsa was seen as complicit in allowing this to happen which explained her presence.

Though Anna swore on her life that Kristoff was prepared to marry her, their father would have none of it; insisting that she would marry the youngest son of a Napoli family, where Elsa would be married to someone in the north.

She did not argue, knowing there would be no point in doing so. Their father would only insist and grow angrier. He would have her sent to a nunnery if Elsa revealed that she was involved with another woman.

The girls retired to their chambers afterward, Anna’s sobs echoed through the room as Elsa wrapped an arm around her younger sister; trying to provide comfort to the young girl as her own heartbreaks in two. They only had two options, do as their father instructed, or be disowned; left without money and the protection of their family name.

“I…cannot do this.” Anna’s voice broke, her gaze dropping to her the skirt of her green dress.

Elsa gazed at her sister, hand rubbing against the silk fabric with a sigh. “We do not have an option, Anna.” Her chest aching as she spoke with melancholy.

“It..it just is not fair.” The younger sister sobbed. Elsa knew it was not fair, their entire lives were predicated on what their father believed their worth to be. They had no opinion in who they loved and their aspirations. It was entirely based on the wills of men.

Elsa rested her head on Anna’s shoulder with a sigh, trying to provide some comfort to her younger sister while her own heart broke. She knew their father would only tighten his leash on the two of them until their marriages; her time with Honeymaren was over effectively.

“We could always run away.” The elder sister said, meaning it to be insincere as a joke. Anna sat up straight, glancing at her with startled eyes. 

“We could…” The auburn-haired woman trailed off, startling Elsa with the affirmation. 

“Wait…Anna, no you cannot be serious.” The blonde started as Anna stood from the bed quickly. The younger sister paced in front of Elsa before turning to her as a plan formulated in the younger woman’s head.

“I am! Father plans to marry us off to strangers anyhow or disown if we do not follow his plans.” Anna stated, her sky-blue eyes turned towards the ceiling.

Elsa turned her palms to her sister, trying to stop her from continuing. “Even if we ran away, we wouldn’t have any money or protection from father.”

“We will not have protection or money if he disowns us!” Anna stared at her sister, her hands resting on her hips. “It does not matter either way. I do not wish to be shipped off to a stranger rather than spending the rest of my life with the man I love. Do you not want to spend your life with the woman you love?”

The blonde fell silent, her gaze cast down to the ground with her lips pressed in a thin line. Curious how Anna might have known about her and Honeymaren before her mind drifts to the question at hand. What did she want?

She wanted to wake every morning in Honeymaren’s arms, to kiss her lover awake and watch her while the other woman worked. To take every moment to paint the brunette and the flowers she grew in the garden, their garden.

“How did you know about us?” Elsa asked, glancing up at her sister with a questioning gaze. She knew that Anna was aware of all the time she and Honeymaren had spent with one another. It did not occur to Elsa that her sister had any knowledge of her romance with the other woman.

Anna reassuringly smiled at her sister. “It is obvious by the way you two look at one another.”

“You can tell by that?” The blonde questioned, staring at the younger Arnoni sister incredulously. Anna shrugs, settling on the bed next to Elsa once again.

“Kristoff and I happened to see you two steal a kiss from one another in the garden quite a few times.” The other woman smirked, nudging her shoulder against Elsa’s own.

Elsa groaned, hiding her reddening face in her hands. She had known they should have been more discreet in their affection. Despite the situation, Anna’s laughter at her sister echoed through the room.

Her chest ached at the thought that she might never touch her lips to Honeymaren’s again. Feel her soft skin under her fingertips, shuddering under her brush. Never hear her laughter again. These things were only to become distant memories.

The words tumbled from Elsa without much thought. “I want to be with Honeymaren.” Silence lingered between the two at her declaration, tearing pricking in her bright eyes. Anna reaches to her sister’s lap, taking her hand into her own. With a look of determination in her eyes.

“Then we will leave.”

Elsa nodded in response, despite the fear coursing through her veins. Her certainty matched her sister’s, they would define their own path in life.

That was the night when Elsa knew that she was going to spend the rest of her days with the love of her life.

* * *

**Florence, 1554.**

Elsa smiles, glancing back down to her sketch of her lover resting on the ground. It was still a faceless portrait but is well underway; the body having been drawn with care and precision. Honeymaren’s long legs were left uncovered by the sheet which lay between her thighs, covering her core. Her arm draped above her head, accentuating her breasts and lengthening her sternum.

The blonde sighs, knowing she would not finish it without Honeymaren sitting for her; she isn’t confident in her ability to draw her lover’s face without a reference. She bends over, picking up the sketch and placing it on their bed.

She tears herself away from the sheets to dress for the day. Opening the trunk, Elsa grabs her white smock shrugging the garment on, which reaches to her knees. She grabs a light blue kirtle, slipping it on without much struggle. Her ears perk up as she hears hurried movement in the kitchen, indicating that Honeymaren had started working already.

They hardly ever started this early in the morning, but since the announcement of Anna’s pregnancy, they wanted to help her and Kristoff as much as possible financially. The increase of orders had helped considerably.

Elsa pulls on the skirt of her kirtle to adjust the bodice over her breasts. With her back straight, the blonde begins to lace the front of the woollen garment, pulling the lacing tight as possible. With a sigh, she secures her dress to her body leaving the room into the chaos of their kitchen and work area.

Padding quietly across the kitchen to where Honeymaren stands in front of the table, grinding dried herbs in the mortar with the pestle. Much to the brunette’s surprise, Elsa wraps her arms around her waist, burying her face in the crook of Honeymaren’s neck.

Honeymaren’s shoulders shake in laughter as she glances at her lover with a small smile. “What brought this on?” 

“Nothing.” Elsa sighs, glancing down at the surface. “I just love you.”

“I love you too.” Honeymaren tilts her head slightly, pressing herself against the blonde.

Elsa inhaling her scent deeply, her fingers brushing against the wool of the other woman’s kirtle. Reluctantly she withdraws from the brunette, taking her place to remove the flowers from the stems of the lavender. Glancing toward Honeymaren, Elsa’s smile only grows with the knowledge that she had made the right choice that morning to follow the strange woman into her home.

**Author's Note:**

> I TRIED to include as much renaissance fashion as I could, I have to admit I really enjoyed the research with renaissance fashion and like Women in Italy during this period as well as how being a lesbian was viewed in society at the time. Honestly, the only thing I know about this period was herbalism because I wrote a paper on it and the trade routes of Renaissance England from Italy.
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the fic Tori!! Happy Galentines Day!!!


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